Aromantic Wen Qing
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28 Mar 2020
“What is it?” he asks lazily. He watches her with one cautious eye, the other still indolently squeezed shut. Wei Wuxian is lounging on a stone, toying with the long green sprouts from the garlic patch. Actually, he is exhausted; he has been playing his flute to pull in game every day, as well as healing Wen Ning and maintaining the protections that keep them all safe. And he has not been eating nearly enough. He still bent over with everyone else to pull the long, cylindrical turnips from the ground, though. He didn’t tell them how it made his head swim. Now he is lying on a rock, and he does not intend to move anytime soon, no matter how grim Wen Qing looks.
This is the expression she wears when there’s been bad news, and now she has to do something she’d rather not do. "...Is there a plague?" he guesses. A plague would mean a lot of work for her, wouldn’t it? "Or! Did Wen Ning get himself stuck in the chicken coop again?” Another, more disgusting possibility occurs to him, gross enough to have him perking up hopefully, propping himself on one elbow wedged against the stone. “Or maybe you have a really big, infected zit on your back and you need me to pop it?!"
She says, "I want babies."